Breaking Out is So Not Easy!
by BluetoothThePirate
Summary: Two teen heroes kick off a relationship, while two villains plot a break from the ultimate prison. Starts right after StD, first in a planned series. Sixth and final chapter up. Booyah!
1. Where do we go from here?

OK, so I'm giving this FanFiction thing a try. Go easy on me.

Two storylines, no waiting. The one in Middleton's going to be a fairly straightforward romantic comedy bit, but the other... you'll see. I look forward to your comments. **

* * *

**

**Where do we go from here?**

It happened. It happened, and then, it was over.

Two teens passed through the double doors of Middleton High School, hand in hand. In the past hours they had thwarted a madman's bid for world conquest, fought a climactic battle against evil, and shared the most significant, romantic, and passionate kiss of their young lives. The thwarting and battling were normal occurrences for this particular pair. The kiss, however, was a new one.

"Kim?" The young man cleared his throat.

"Yeah, Ron?" She was blushing.

"That was…"

"Yeah?"

"Unreal."

The pair lingered together by the entrance, staring off into a clear night sky. It was late, and an unseasonable cold snap had chilled the May air. Kim couldn't help but shiver a bit.

"So, Ron," she asked without looking, "Where do we go from here?"

Ron didn't have an immediate answer for that. He stared off into the sky, as if the truth would be spelled out for him on the moon. "I don't know. Where do we go from here? What's next for us? What is the destination, the safe harbor of this good ship called Relation?"

"Uh, Ron?" She wasn't sure he understood the question.

He pushed ahead, undaunted. "These are uncharted seas. We're off the edge of the map, baby, and here there be monsters!" He grew louder, and struck a jaunty pose worthy of Lewis and/or Clark.

Now she was _sure_ he didn't get it. She didn't care. Her boyfriend (and oh boy did that phrase sound weird applied to Ron) was off on one of his trademark wild tangents. She wouldn't have it any other way.

"Mere moments ago, in that gym, we embarked on a journey neither of us packed a change of socks for! No, Kimmy-kins, I know not what strange and new experiences await us over that romantic horizon, what exotic ports of call our Love Boat might visit, but this I do know, for absolute and true!"

He turned to face her directly. His tone was low and serious. "Wherever it is we go from here, I promise I will be with you, and we will go there together as a team, solid and unbreakable!"

She almost felt bad for him. But the enjoyable diversion had passed, and she still needed an answer. "Umm… no, Ron. 'Where do we go from here', like, to which house?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah."

"It was still sweet." Kim leaned in, and planted a quick peck on Ron's forehead. "And highly accurate."

"Yeah, well…" He trailed off, and was lost in her deep green eyes again.

They licked their lips, and readied themselves for an encore performance of the evening's climactic scene. Alas, it was not to be. The loud crash of opening doors behind them broke the mood.

"Not again! Seriously, people, public displays of affection on school grounds are clearly counter-indicated in the Middleton High student handbook." Second Lieutenant Steve Barkin (US Army 101st Airborne, retired) glowered over them from the doorway.

"Sorry, sir." Kim pulled into line with her new beau, and sheepishly looked down at her battered shoes and singed hemline.

Barkin's hard features seemed to soften a bit, though it may have been a trick of the moonlight. "Don't let me drag you down too much; Heaven knows I've bent a few regulations in my time, given proper motivation. But, please, don't leave _this_ thing wandering around my school!"

Barkin lifted his hand. Curled up in his palm was a sleeping bald rodent. His little belly was distended, making it appear as though the frail pink creature was about to be the mother of a regulation-size softball.

"Rufus!" Ron plucked the little fellow from Barkin's grasp, and held him up like a proud father lifting his infant son. Rufus let out a massive burp, and blinked awake.

"Uuuugh," was all he could manage. "Full."

"It finished off the lion's share of the cheese dip while the two of you were," Barkin hesitated, searching for a suitable descriptor. "Osculating. Careful, it may retreat back up the entrance route, and soon!"

Ron gently lowered Rufus back to chest height, careful not to jostle him. "Thanks, Mr. B. I can't believe I was that, er, distracted!"

"I can," Kim quietly interjected, hoping Barkin wouldn't hear.

He apparently did not. "Now that's settled, so get off school property! You two are the last to leave, and I've got cleanup to attend to. Move!"

Kim hustled off, double time, to the parking lot. Barkin held Ron back.

"Stoppable!"

"Yes sir, Brigadier Pixie, sir?" He snapped a salute.

"Humph. Congratulations. She's way too good for you."

Ron was not quite sure how to respond. "Uh, thanks?" He chased after his girl, by then a fair distance ahead. "Wait up, KP!"

Barkin went back inside, to orchestrate the disaster relief from the junior prom. He felt a certain sense of closure and satisfaction, as he chuckled to himself. "I just made fifty bucks in the faculty betting pool."

* * *

Ron caught up near the parking lot. Kim spoke first. "Your place." 

"Eh?" Ron huffed a bit, short of breath from the sprint.

"I think we should go to your place," Kim continued. "My parents get first crack at all the big events, I think it's only fair that this time, yours do."

"Yeah, okay. I think they'd like that. Then, I'll give you a lift back home, and we can update the good doctors Possible on all the world-shattering bon-diggity news that fits!" The young couple arrived at Ron's little blue scooter. The machine had undergone a dramatic transformation in the last few hours; more dramatic even than the grandiose heroics it helped to create. Ron mounted the scooter first, and pressed the starter.

In their lives together as teenage freak-fighters, Kim and Ron had seen a number of spectacular mechanical failures. None of these were quite so dramatic, however, as what befell Ron's scooter in that moment. The increase in stress, brought on by the rocket engines and crazy stunts, had pushed the machine far past its breaking point. The scooter was held together by sheer hope and sense of purpose. That purpose had ended. With a pathetic sputter and cough, the frame, engine, tires, light and handlebars collapsed under Ron's weight into a tangled jumble.

Kim let out a quick gasp, and helped Ron rise from the pile. She said the first thing that came to mind. "Wow. Shades of the Blues Brothers, huh?"

"Yeah. I guess… I guess it was done." He bent down on one knee, like a knight of old mourning a fallen steed. A solitary tear fell to rest on the cracked engine block.

Kim tried to console him. "Hey, it gave its all for us, and more. And it lasted longer than I expected it to, for something the tweebs worked on."

"Yeah. I guess I'll be alright." He stood up tall, and put on his bravest face. "So, what, we hoof it then? Or call in a favor?"

"I guess so. Wait!" She opened her evening bag, and rummaged through the contents. "Syntho-boy was whining earlier, about his keys poking him." She produced an ignition key from her purse. "I suppose he was afraid of spilling his guts, the little phony."

Ron looked over Kim's shoulder, to the red sport motorcycle parked on the other side of the lot. "Kimberly Ann Possible, are you proposing we take someone else's stuff?"

"It probably belongs to Drakken, and I have no problem taking it from that goofy blue maniac." The two shared an impish smile, and raced each other to the bike.

* * *

Somewhere, a few miles past the middle of nowhere, a truly twisted pair lounged in an opulent foyer. They had been heavily tranquilized for hours, and were still groggy. 

The green woman was first to regain lucidity. Her hair still had the telltale signs of a severe electric jolt, as if she'd lost a knife fight with a toaster. _Okay, _she thought,_ what have we here? Drugged, okay, in some kind of… hotel lobby? Velvet loveseat, ooh, posh! The Doc, he's over there, half out of it. Okay, I remember the shock, loaded in a police van, Possible and the buffoon… and that's it._

"Doc!" Shego shouted at her employer, trying to force some awareness into his addled head. "Come on Doc, look at me already!"

"Mommy," Doctor Drakken murmured to her blurry silhouette, still disoriented from the chemicals stewing in his brain. "Mommy, can I have a bedtime story, and maybe a warm cup of cocoa-moo?"

Shego slipped into her trademark snark. "Sure, my little Drewbie. Let me warm it up for you!" She flexed a muscle within her mind, to summon up her flaming fists-of-fury as she had thousands of times before. This time, as the light grew from deep inside her, she felt a searing pain shoot across her arms, like the skin itself had been peeled off and coated with Diablo Sauce. She was seized by the sudden agony, and pulled back her power. Then, just as suddenly, the pain was gone.

As her vision cleared, she checked out her hands. She found fingerless gloves, long and heavy, with mysterious mechanical parts and secure locks, clamped fast to her forearms. She then noticed her clothes, and Drakken's, had been replaced with fashionably cut black suits. The breast pockets bore numbers, hers seventeen, his eighteen.

"What the hell kind of…"

"Hell, Miss, it is not." A new voice filled the room. Its owner was a young Asian man, no more than twenty, in the uniform of the Global Justice Network. "Though outside these walls is another story." He had appeared without warning in the center of the room.

Shego pounced towards the newcomer in a blind fury, only to pass harmlessly through him, and fall in a heap on the other side.

Drakken was, at this point, beginning to regain his full faculties. "A hologram?" He knew enough to think the preceding was funny, and also enough to cut off the oncoming laughter. Shego did not like being the object of ridicule. "Been there, done that, bought the tee shirt. I take it you are our host, Mister…"

"Du, Special Agent Will Du, warden of the new Global Justice Super Criminal Interrogation and Detention District, Mark one." The young man had an air of haughty self-assuredness and snobbery that tweaked both villains to their very core.

"What, this is a prison?" Shego regained her feet, and leaned against the wall, restoring the sneer she usually wore to accessorize convict uniforms. "It's kind of swanky for a gulag. I'd be too tempted to just stay in here."

"Not the point, Shego. No prison can hold us, no matter how comfortable the seating. Ooh, is this real velour?" Doctor Drakken bounced in his seat.

"I believe that's an oxymoron." Agent Du was confused by Drakken's erratic behavior.

Drakken had a retort ready for that one. "Your mother's an oxymoron."

Du seemed a bit flustered. "My mother is a saint, and… never mind." He pushed his emotions back down, restoring his façade of unbreakable professionalism. "This facility is the latest containment system for hard cases like you, chronic escapees with scientific genius or superhuman abilities. You can never escape."

"No mere stone walls can hold us! So neener, and neener again!" Drakken gave the hologram a raspberry. Shego just winced, and held her forehead in her palm. "We'll be leaving shortly, so who's the moron now, huh? Shego! The door!"

She shrugged. "I can't!"

"What? What is it now, break time, sidekick high holy days, what!"

"No, I can't use my powers, these," Shego held up her hands, "things fry me when I try to power up!"

"Yes, an ingenious invention. Especially for you, Miss Inmate Seventeen." Will Du's hologram resumed his speech. "A powerful thermo-kinetic inverter system. Any attempt to use your powers, to damage anything or anyone, and you suffer the consequences. Although, if you wish to leave, there's the door."

The image beckoned to a massive steel vault door. With a wave of his hand, the locks disengaged, and the portal slowly swung open. Bitter cold and blowing show assaulted the two villains, chilling them to their already icy hearts. Du gestured again, and the door shut.

"Even if you can escape, that's all you have to look forward to. A quick frozen death."

Shego brushed some snow from her hair. "Where are we? Greenland, the Himalayas?"

"That information is classified. Now, please pass though those doors, the other guests await the latest arrivals." Du's image vanished, with a final smug smirk.

A set of oaken doors opened slowly and silently, to reveal an adjoining sitting room. It was as well furnished as the foyer, laid out like an old English club hall. Leather wingback chairs and realistic (but decidedly fake) open fireplaces filled the corners. Bookshelves ran the length of all the walls. Drakken and Shego stepped through the doors cautiously.

A man seated in one of the chairs looked up from an enormous volume. His single eye fixed on the pair of newcomers. "Ah, the insidious Doctor Drakken, and his comely compatriot. Please, come take a seat by me."

Shego did so, casually. Drakken tugged his collar nervously, and settled into a deep, overstuffed easy chair. "Ooh, this place is just full of good places to sit."

"Yes, I believe that is the idea." The stranger closed his book. "The leadership of Global Justice wishes that we will be content to stay here."

"Create a prison that no one wants to leave," Shego volunteered.

"In a place where no one can survive unassisted, yes." The man took a sip of tea from a waiting cup. "Shall I ring for refreshments for the both of you?"

"Cocoa moo?" Doctor Drakken perked up at once.

Shego ignored the interruption, and concentrated on the mystery man. "So, we almost conquered the world tonight. What'd _you_ do, mister..."

"Global Justice fears me above all others. I am the evil twin of their leader, Doctor Director. I am," he paused for emphasis, "Gemini!"

Shego was puzzled. "Doctor Director is a woman, isn't she?"

"Fraternal twins."

Drakken had to stick his head in this time. "Ah. So, what, she just locked you up like that DiCaprio guy in that one movie? Shego, what was that movie?"

"Shut up, doof-bag! I don't have to do anything you say, you're in no position to cover my salary! God, you're just so annoying, you know that, Drew?" Shego had once again hurt him with her words. She turned back to Gemini. "Back to the sob story."

"Quite. Anyway, I kidnapped a teenage boy as part of a scheme to take over the world." Gemini took another long sip from his teacup.

Drakken seemed puzzled by this incomplete explanation. "What, like a prince, or some kid with psychic powers, or…"

"No, just some foolish boy. GJ had him under observation, so I naturally thought he was somehow special. Ron something-or-other."

"Stoppable?" Drakken and Shego interjected in perfect synch.

"Yes, that was it. You've heard of him?"

* * *

Middleton's streets were all but empty as the red sport bike made its way through the maze of suburban sprawl. Kim rode at a speed just shy of reckless, and Ron's arms clung to her midsection like Pain King's trademark suplex. 

Kim hit the throttle even harder, and popped the front wheel off the ground. The extra weight of a passenger made this a fast process. Ron tightened his grip, and cried out over the roar of the engine. In his panic, he grabbed hold of something soft and yielding. It took him a moment to realize just what it was, and when he did he felt himself blush.

Kim smiled under her helmet visor. _I get to drive fast **and** get a continuous hug? I love bikes. The most romantic way to break the speed limit. And so fuel-efficient!_

They reached the Stoppable home in record time. It was about half past nine, and the lights were on.

Ron was still dizzy and disoriented. Rufus, however, was on cloud nine. "Again!"

"Oh no, little pal. Time for sit-down-and-not-go-fast-for-a-while time." Ron stumbled around the lawn, as if he'd been testing industrial stand mixers from the inside out.

"I can't believe you were so scared, after all that's happened tonight," Kim teased, with a playful laugh in her voice.

"Hey, I almost fell off, like, a dozen times back there."

"Yeah, I think you left some marks," Kim gestured towards her hips. "And up here, too."

Ron couldn't help but stammer. "Well, heh, I was just, um, groping on for dear life?" He sheepishly turned his head and blushed.

Kim hoped silently, _the next time he touches my chest, it better be on purpose. Oh my God, did I just think that? About Ron?_ Her blush put his to shame, a shade somewhere between sunburn and pickled beets.

"I guess that excuse will fly, this time," she finally managed to squeak out.

Ron had already focused on the door to his house. He went over the scenario in his mind; how he'd deliver the news to his parents about the new world order he and Kim had created for themselves. "I guess it's time to do this."

"Here," Kim slid up next to him, in the middle of the front lawn, and held him close. "For courage."

* * *

Inside, the Stoppables had just recently finished a hurried set of room rearrangements. They had unexpectedly brought in a set of overnight houseguests. 

"So, it's the kids in here, the parents in the guest room?" Mister Stoppable laid out some blankets on the sofa and loveseat in the downstairs den.

His wife turned down the double bed in the extra bedroom. "Yes, that's it. You find enough extra sheets?" She called back, echoing through the house.

Doctor James T. Possible entered the room, fresh from brushing his teeth. "I can't thank you enough for putting us up here, Paula."

"Don't be silly, James. It's the least I could do after, well, everything. Besides, I can't have you spending the night in a half-broken house."

"Yes, those robots really messed up the old homestead. I'm sure it's reparable, but I don't pay to heat the whole outdoors!"

"Well, we've got extra space. Just keep your boys from re-purposing any appliances – was that a motorcycle?" The noise had caught her off-guard.

James pulled back the drapery, and peered down at the street. "Sure is. Looks like, yes, it's Kimmy and Eric. She must have gone back to the dance after settling up with old Drew." He took a closer look. "Hmm. No, that's not Eric."

"What's going on down there?"

"That's Eric's bike, but who's that in the silly blue tux – Ronald?"

"Oh, good. I was getting worried. Let's go down and – "

Mrs. Stoppable's mind suffered a minor skip. It was unable to process exactly what it was seeing. An established pattern of reality had been shattered, and the dominant paradigm had just shifted from third to first without a clutch. Down below, on her own lawn, her son was locked in a deep kiss with his best friend.

_Oh thank God, _she couldn't help but think. _It's a girl!_


	2. What changed, exactly?

Ok, chapter 2. Thanks to all who reviewed chapter 1, I'm glad you're excited about the story concept. A few more prison moments (and a bit more mush) and it's on to the breakout plan itself. Look for the following in later chapters: Awkward phrasing, double dealing, low-rent villains, lactose-intolerance, shower action, caged heat, someone nicknaming Shego a "sexy orc", and a Bruce Lee reference or two. I think you'll be pleased.

I don't get what is up with some of these FanFic writers, trying to squeeze all the humor and joy out of Kim Possible. The lightheartedness of it all is what makes it so great! Not to harsh on anyone, I've read some of the dark and gritty stuff, and it's been good writing, but it just didn't feel like KP to me. So, very much more joking around here. Bluetooth (the Pirate) style, yarr!

Now to the business. I don't own crap if you saw it on the TV.

* * *

**2 – What Changed, Exactly?**

"So then Rufus takes a chunk right out of his ankle!" Ron was nearing the climax of his recounting of the evening's events. The collected parents sat in silence through the entire tale thus far, barring an occasional "ooh" and "ah". "And sploosh, all his syntho-guts come a spillin' out everywhere, and he's all 'Noooooooooo!'" He did a reasonable impression of a man melting into his own shoes. Despite the emotional connection to the moment, Kim couldn't help but laugh quietly.

"So he falls right on the transmitter, and the electro-thingy hits home, and zappo! That's all she wrote for the Lil' Diablos."

"And then?" Mr. Dr. Possible had grown impatient with the world-saving part of the story. He wanted to hear the important bit.

Kim supplied her part. "We packed up Drakken, Shego, and the henchmen, and they got carted off by the police."

"And then?" All the voices in the room were focused on the real meat of the evening.

"Oh, and then we came back to town, gathered up our respective wardrobe changes,"

"We must have missed each other with all the confusion," Mrs. Dr. Possible chimed in, before being gently shushed by her husband.

"And we went back to the dance. Together." Kim took Ron by the hand.

Kim's father was a bit perturbed by the whole story. "So, that's it? Eric wasn't even human?"

"Not even a bit."

"And he melted into a puddle?"

"Mmm-hm."

"And you've decided to date Ronald?"

"We decided together. But, yes."

The whole assembled extended family sat quietly, as the news sunk in. The silence was broken by a pair of identical voices crying out in harmony. "Kim and Ron, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S…"

"Boys!" Their mother's interjection short-circuited their childish capering faster than a large soda spilled on a cooling grate. "You get back in bed this instant!"

"Aw, Mom!" Jim spoke first. "We just wanted to see…"

"Who won the bet!" Tim finished for him.

Ron wasn't sure what to make of that statement. "Bet?"

"Oops! I think we just…"

"Let the cat out of the bag!" The tweebs retreated back into the den.

The doctors Possible avoided their daughter's gaze. Her father whistled a nonsensical tune.

"Mom, Dad, what is this all about?"

"Listen, Kimmy, sweetheart, we really all saw this coming." Her mother adopted a sympathetic tone.

"It was fairly obvious, since that whole rigmarole with that emotion manipulating microchip, that Ronald really did want to be more than just your best friend." Kim's father did his best to downplay the fun he was having at his daughter's expense. "Not that I blame him. You're clearly way too good for him."

"Daddy! So not true!"

He continued undaunted. "His fear of change is what got in his way. So, your mother and I made a little wager. I thought Ronald would never make the first move, he'd wait for you to go to him."

"And I thought he'd soldier forward like a trooper in spite of himself," Kim's mother put in. "But this whole Eric thing… well, if you're okay, we're okay, right Jim?"

"Absotively, posilutely."

"So, what'd I win you, Mrs. Dr. P?" Ron looked rather proud of himself.

"Jim here has to take his boys for a week this summer, so I can have 'alone time.'"

"How can you be so passive about this, Ron?" Kim was deeply tweaked by the whole affair.

"I don't want the best day of my life brought down by a little familial discord."

Kim could feel the knot untying itself inside her. _That wonderful boy._ "You're right, sweetie. And such big words!"

"Yeah, I've been saving those." He turned to his own parents. "So, what about you two, any wagers settled tonight?"

"We're just thrilled, Ronald." Mr. Stoppable said without a hint of untruth.

"So, no flack about Kim not being Jewish?"

His mother waved her hand dismissively in his direction. "Have some faith in us, Ronald. I'll take 'female', quite frankly." She realized the full truth of what she had said just moments after, as five pairs of eyes fixed on her. "I mean, um…"

The conversation died after that. All involved blamed the slip on lack of sleep, and everyone shuffled off to bed.

* * *

Dinner at the GJ SCIDD-Mark I was a formal affair. All the gathered host of villains, in their matching suits, clustered around a massive dining table straight out of a Victorian mansion. All the inmates of the prison were present. Conversation was decidedly awkward.

Drakken chewed his roast pheasant with bitterness in his heart. His greatest scheme to date had been thwarted, and he couldn't even watch the aftermath on television. What was worse, none of the others would even believe how close he had come. "No, really! I almost did it this time!"

Duff Killigan would have none of it. He spat bits of haggis about the table as he spoke. "Oh, likely story, that. Wee toy robots almost handed ye the world." His Scots Gaelic brogue lifted into a mocking high-pitched squeal. "Oh, help me, Mum, it's gonna bite me ankles! Help!"

The rest of the guests had a good chuckle over this, even Shego. Okay, _especially_ Shego.

"I agree," rang out the Teutonic tenor of Professor Dementor, "You could never make anything that worked on your own, you always resorted to TAKING MY THINGS!"

"Hey, that's not fair!" Doctor Drakken rose to his own defense.

"Yeah, he takes stuff from other people, too!" Shego just had to throw in one more mock.

Drakken was left to sulk over his meal. Just as he thought the laughter would overcome him, the far door of the dining room slid open, and two men entered the room.

"I still say this is all your fault, Father!" The younger man was in a foul mood, even for a prisoner.

"Now, Junior, it is clearly that Kim Possible's fault." His father's reassurances were bitter indeed. "Without her, we would be ruling the world, and not stuck in this low class prison like common millionaires." He turned his attention to the table. "Ah, new faces! How delightfully novel."

"Father, look! It is my old villainy instructor!" Señor Senior, Jr., helped himself to the empty seat across from his former teacher.

"Oy." Shego was clearly not looking forward to this reunion. "Hello, Junior. And you too, Senior." She stared down the table longingly at a large chocolate milkshake. She'd kill to have it at that moment. But without her medication, she couldn't risk it. Her intestines would revolt against her, spurred on by undigested milk sugar.

"Ah, Miss Shego. I see your clearly superior fundamentals were unable to keep you beyond the reach of the authorities." Señor Senior, Sr., stifled a chuckle. A true gentleman takes no joy at the suffering of a lady. "Ah, and this must be your current employer. Doctor, oh dear, the name escapes me, Dokken?"

"No, father, it is Dorgan."

"Drakken! Doctor Drakken!"

"No, that wasn't it."

"Nnngh!"

* * *

A silent figure swept through the Stoppable house. It was after midnight, and every other living soul had fallen asleep. The shadow made its way past the door to the guest room, and gently turned the knob to Ron's bedroom door. It opened without so much as a squeak. The shadow crept through the room, to the sleeping boy's bedside.

Ron was roused from sleep by movement next to him. He felt a weight shift on his mattress. He started, and turned to meet the intruder. His mind raced through all the possibilities: a vengeful Gill, monkey ninjas, burglars, maybe even broccoli, that treacherous veggie, always sneaking up on you…

"Shh! It's me." Kim hushed him gently, seated on the edge of his bed. She was dressed in sweatpants and a tee shirt, borrowed from his own wardrobe.

"Kim?" He whispered to her silhouette.

"Yeah, everyone else is asleep."

"So was I, actually. You spooked me a little."

"I thought I might, but it was worth the risk. I had to get out of that den; the tweebs are snoring in stereo."

Ron sat up, and made Kim some room. She slipped under the covers, and pulled herself close.

"This is, uh, nice." His voice was uneven and nervous, but he felt more comfortable with each passing second.

"It is. Real cozy." She wasn't quite relaxed, either.

Ron hesitated for a moment, but soon he began to gently stroke Kim's arm. "Y'know, Kim, I think I can really take to the whole 'boyfriend' thing."

"I think so, too. It means big changes, though."

"Like what?"

"Well, we'll have to do stuff together. Like the movies, dinner, travel…"

Ron cut her off. "We already do that, like, every day."

"I know, but doing stuff like that with your boyfriend is, well, different!"

"You're gonna have to explain that one, KP."

She thought about it. She knew there was a reason, some deep important thing that made a friend and boyfriend different, but she could not put her finger…

"I can't believe my own mom thought I was gay!" Ron changed the subject. His mother's statement had been circling in his mind for hours.

"Yeah, I have no clue how she could have – well…"

"Well, what?"

"There's the cooking thing."

"Most of the top chefs are men! Manly men!"

"There was that obsession with the O-Boyz…"

"Hey, they had real talent!"

"The dressing as a ballerina for Halloween…"

"I was being ironic."

"Not to mention the time you spent in my body. You really did enjoy the cheerleading outfit. What was it you said, 'The breeze is very refreshing'?"

"Hey, enjoying unrestricted access to a female body is every straight man's dream!"

Kim was a bit thrown by that one. "Wait, what _did_ you do with my body?"

Ron had to backpedal. Damage control time! "You were watching me like a hawk, not to mention your dad! I never had a chance to try anything! Besides, are you telling me that you weren't even curious?" He raised a curious eyebrow, and flashed his most charming smile. It was just enough.

"Okay, maybe a little." Kim calmed back down, and settled back into his embrace. Then, after a few minutes had passed, her mind filled with a wicked, naughty idea. "So, do you want to try something now?"

There was no answer. Ron had fallen asleep. Kim was disappointed, but not for long. She settled into his chest, and soon her exhaustion overpowered her excitement.

* * *

His bed was nice. It had soft, clean linens, a good quality mattress, and a deep down pillow. But to Drakken, it felt like a pile of rusty nails. He tossed and turned, his mind consumed with the failure of a plan so carefully plotted out, and how it could go so wrong. He tried to let it go, but he couldn't.

_It was all so perfect. How could it all have gone so wrong? I had her at my mercy! Was it the execution, the planning? Or that Syntho-drone. There must have been some flaw in his programming or appearance, something that stopped him from fully infiltrating her emotions._

_Or Shego. Maybe Kim Possible really was smarter than she. Maybe it was her fault, she couldn't figure out the plan…_

_No, Possible didn't figure it out. We basically told it to her. We had her! We had everything! Ooh, next time Kim Possible…_

_Next time? Next time? Unless I can figure a way out of here, there won't be a next time. If only there was a way._

_No, no one can just walk out of here, and if someone went missing, that insipid Will Du would hunt them down before they could escape. Besides, I have no clue where "Here" is. I just know it's colder than the north end of a southbound snowman!_

_Is it going to be roast pheasant every night? I don't think I could handle that; I'll just swell up like a balloon…_

_I've got to get out of here. Go where I want to go, do what I want to do…_

_That Kim Possible. She can go wherever she pleases, all she has to do is ask nicely, and BOOM! She's there. If only I could trade places with her…_

_No, not me. Someone with real skills. Someone like Shego! But how…_

Drakken rolled back on his bed, and fell asleep. His dreams were filled with plots and plans. A seed had been planted in his mind. A dark seed that would grow into the weed of evil. And what kind of bitter fruit is borne by the weed of evil?

_Really bitter, that's what kind! Yeah!_


	3. We am what we is! Except when we ain't

OK, Bluetooth Buccaneers and KP true believers, here it is, Chapter the Third. Thanks to all the kind reviewers who have added me to your favorite lists. We're skipping ahead a bit, to see the execution of Dr. D's plan for getting out of Dodge. We'll hit a few of the in-between details in flashback, so fret not. Plus, there's really two prison breaks in this story, and a surprise about two minor characters in this chapter. (I'm excercising my 'T' rating here). You'll see!

Disney Mondo Mega Corporation owns it if you saw it on TV. Else, not so much.

* * *

**We Am What We Is! (Unless we ain't)**

"Soon, Flying Sword, you will pay for what you have done to my family!"

"Yes, Crimson Snow. But first, I must tell you… I love you!"

The two Chinese actors on the Possible's big screen TV met in mid air, in a slow-motion wire-work ballet. They were half grappling, half embracing (hugrappling, as it were). At some point, some smart director from China figured out how to combine martial arts and romantic drama in equal parts and still make a viable movie. Many such classics followed, and there could be few better choices of date movie for Kim Possible and her sidekick/boyfriend.

"It's just so beautiful… oh, look at that kick!" All the parts of Kim's brain were engaged at the same time.

Ron was concentrated solely on Kim. He'd racked his brains for a week since the prom, on how and where his life needed to change, to fit his new role. He'd gone to someone for advice. It was time to share it with Kim.

"Hey, Kim?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Oh, uh, okay." She hit pause. The screen froze with the two actors caught in mid hugrapple, their lips mere inches apart, their swords mere inches from fully drawn.

"Kim, I've been thinking about our relationship."

"What… ohmygod are you going to break up with me?"

"Okay, first, that's tantamount to suicide. Second, I could never even dream it, and third, let me finish!" He recollected himself. "Okay, so I was thinking about what we are, what I am. Am I a boyfriend, a best friend, a sidekick, or some weird hybrid, like a boysidebestfrick?"

"A what?"

"And what I thought about was this guy." He held up the DVD box for _Enter the Dragon_.

"Bruce Lee made you think about your relationship? See, it's stuff like this that makes your mom think…"

"Not like that! Bruce, see he had this thing about labels and boxes and stuff. He learned a bunch of different fighting styles, and decided that the best was no style at all."

"Right. The art of fighting without fighting. The way of no way." This girl studied diligently in all aspects of her life, and this one helped to keep her alive, and so she studied it especially hard. "Use what works for you, don't concentrate on tradition and ritual, and just fight your own fights."

"Yeah! So I got to thinking. Maybe what's got me so tweaked is I'm trying to fit myself in a bunch of boxes, and no matter which one I choose, I have to cut off some parts to fit."

"Gross! Go on."

"KP, we're unique. No couple I know of has quite the same, well, _uniqueness_ about it."

"No, they sure don't. I can't think of another couple that'd base their romantic discussions on _Jeet Kune Do_."

"Right! And so, instead of trying to fit stuff into labels, like 'date', 'boyfriend', 'love puppet', whatever, we just be who we need to be!"

Kim slid into it full force, and it felt good to Ron-out a bit. "We are the relationship with no name!"

"We am what we is!"

"We is what we am!"

"We have no style!" Ron called it out triumphantly.

"At least you don't!"

"Straight up! Boo-yah!"

The display had exhausted them both. They panted to catch their breath, then caught hold of one another, and fell on the couch tightly bound.

Kim landed on top. Her hair fell forward, framing her face and forming a red curtain that shut out the rest of the world.

"You look so beautiful." Ron lay enchanted by the little beads of sweat forming on Kim's brow. He could feel her whole body pressed against his, every movement and curve passed along through four thin layers of cloth. He was getting hot. Very hot. He took hold of her waist and pulled tighter.

Kim could read the signs. She knew Ron was at the edge. Her mind was clouded. _Go or stop. Back up or charge. Sit up or strip down._ _This could be the most important moment_…

"Kids! We're back from the store!" Kim's mother called from the kitchen. She and the tweebs shuffled in with a full load of groceries.

The two teens reacted in perfect synch. They were both upright, and the movie was resumed, in less than three seconds.

"Kim?"

"Yeah?"

"We almost…"

"Mmm-hmm."

"I'm, I mean, you know I want to, I just don't want to…"

"Pressure me. I know. You didn't." She leaned over, and pecked his lips lightly. She whispered. "Someday. Maybe someday soon."

Kim went to the kitchen to help her mom with the groceries. Ron just sat and cooled off for a minute. He thought back to the advice he was given that previous Wednesday. _Good one, you two. Thank you both.

* * *

_

Ron had gone to the movie theater on Wednesday night, with no intention of seeing a movie. He timed it for the middle of Zita Flores' shift. When he got to the head of the ticket queue, she glanced up to see him with a worried look on his face.

"Hold on, Ron." She spoke into her headset. "Boss, I gotta go on lunch a bit early…Ok. Ron, go wait over by theater 10, it's closed down tonight."

Zita took her break, and met Ron in the theater. He was staring at the ceiling. "Z, I got some girl questions to ask you."

"Well, I'm something of an authority, being a girl and all. But why don't you ask your usual source?"

"She's the one the questions are about!" He turned to look at her.

"Ah, of course." She sat down, one seat away from Ron. "I heard about the prom. Finally happened, huh?"

"Yeah. But _what_ happened? Everyone says it's a huge step, a massive upheaval, but I just see it as a little, I don't know, lane change!"

"That's a sticky one. Are human relationships a discrete or continuous system?"

"Umm, what?" Ron's eyebrow went to visit his forehead.

"Oh, my new significant other is a bit of a science wonk. I got used to it."

"A real hard-core nerd, eh?"

"Yeah. They're great."

Ron briefly thought, _they?_, but he kept on with the conversation. "So what you're trying to say is, does love come in chunks like cheese, or flow freely like, um, melted cheese?"

"Yeah! That's what Justi…" Zita cut herself off.

"Justi? Justin? Is that the new guy? Well, why didn't you bring him to the prom?"

"Uh, it's not important, Ron." She smiled, and held up her hands in a dismissive gesture.

"Ok, whatever. So, I should try to convince Kim not to put things in boxes, or try to fit things in holes where things ought not go!"

"Yeah, that's my boy! And, eww!"

Ron was about to leave, but he sat back down next to Zita. "Hey, Z. Did it not work out with us because, y'know, the whole Kim-slash-Me thing was so obvious, or was it because I didn't have what you needed?"

"Oh, the first one, sure. My new… well, they're just…"

"Zita?" A new voice called from the back of the theater, one of a fussy, logical, yet stern demeanor. "There you are." The voice's owner walked up and planted a little peck on Zita's forehead, then moved to sit.

Zita was mortified. She hadn't been ready for this particular introduction. "Ho boy. Okay, Ron, this is…"

"Justine Flanner!" Ron's face took on a hybrid expression halfway between shock and arousal.

"Oh, yes. Kim Possible's sidekick, Mr. Stoppable." The bookish blonde girl settled in right next to Zita.

"Boyfriend." Zita corrected.

"Oh, congratulations. She's such a fine specimen. Very bright." There was no response. "Hello?"

"Ron?" Zita tapped on his forehead. He moved not a muscle.

"Uh oh, Honey. He's locked in shock-rousal mode."

"I got this." Zita stared into Ron's eyes. "Okay, yes, we're involved. No, you cannot take pictures, watch, or 'join in'."

Ron shifted to 'shock-pointment'. "Aww! Too bad for ol' Ronzo."

Justine turned to her blushing Latina lover. "Did I introduce new data ahead of schedule? Zita, I'm tired of being treated like a 'black project' with you!"

Ron cut in. "Yeah, just now she was playing 'hide the gender pronouns' with me!"

"I hate that game!"

"Look, Justine, I'm sorry! It's just, my parents are Catholic, and I don't want to come out to them until I'm prepared to _move_ out, y'know."

"In case they hit the roof, then throw you out from under it?" Ron had a certain gift for metaphor.

"It's hard for you, sweetie. I know." Justine held Zita's head against her own chest, and gently stroked her hair. "So, what was your problem, Ron?"

"It seems a little smaller, now." He said it with no trace of sarcasm. "I'm just trying to figure out a way that Kim won't try and make us do 'couple things', just because we're 'supposed to'."

"Ah. Trying to make someone adopt a new model for the universe is hard. It's usually because they can't visualize it. Try using a metaphorical model that matches something that she's familiar with. Something she's studied."

Ron's epiphany hit hard. He saw in that instant the perfect way to proceed. He leapt to his feet. "Ladies, I gots me some planning to do!" He made a move to dash from the theater. He stopped short, and turned back to the couple seated in the front row.

"Uh, girls? Don't be offended that I ask this, but I figure you might have some insight."

Zita sat back up. "Sure, Ron. Shoot."

"Do I come off as gay to you?"

"No, not at all, does he, Justine?"

"No. And I have very accurate Gaydar."

"Really?"

Justine pulled out a little electronic device from her coat pocket. She pointed it at Ron, and it gave a few beeps. "Ok, twelve percent over the baseline average."

"Eh!"

"Oh, it's probably being influenced by the hairless rodent in your pants."

"Ladies, if you two don't quit breaking my brain, it may just stay broke!"

"Then, you probably don't want to hear my theory that a person's gender identity is best expressed as a seven-dimensional vector quantity."

"La la la, I can't hear you!"

* * *

Kim came back from the kitchen. Ron rose to meet her in the doorway, and snatched her up in a quick kiss. "Tonight, we have a date."

"What, a for-real date?"

"I just thought of the perfect sitch. A grassy hilltop in the park, a home-cooked picnic dinner, just you and me and a billion stars!"

Kim was in awe. Who was this, and where did Ron sneak off to? "That just sounds…"

_Beep-beep-be-deep!_

The Kimmunicator went off in her pocket. Another interruption! "Better be important, Wade!"

"Sorry! Interrupt any illicit cootie-passing?" For as intelligent and advanced as Wade was, he sometimes reminded Kim he was eleven years old.

"Cut to the chase, kiddo!"

"Right. Anyway, I got Will Du on the line. Says it's important."

"Oy. That guy! Put him on."

Will Du's face replaced Wade's. It showed no emotion. "Kim Possible. Is everything well?"

"What do you need, Will?" She was growing impatient.

"We have a bit of a problem at the new GJ super-prison. One of our inmates says she has the location of a secret doomsday weapon, set to go off."

"And, what, she wants to go free in exchange for deactivating it?"

"No, she said she'd divulge the location willingly, but only to you."

"Me?"

"Yes, she was very specific."

"Who is it? The prisoner."

"Shego."

Shego! Even from prison, she could ruin Kim's day. "Okay. Send Wade the coordinates. You're arranging a ride?"

"I'd prefer if you did. All our assets are busy at the moment."

"Uh, okay."

"And Miss Possible?"

"Yeah, Will?"

"Keep it quiet." His face disappeared.

Wade came back on the screen. "I'm decoding the coordinates."

Ron was crestfallen. "I guess the mega-date will have to wait for next week."

"Oh, so not! You go make up the best meal you can, I'll settle up with Shego, and I'll be back for a late dinner!"

"Woah! That's some prison!" Wade's eyes had shot open. "I'll need to call in a big favor for this one."

"Where am I off to?"

"Antarctica!"

* * *

Several hours later, a hypersonic VTOL was skids-down on an ice field, in front of an imposing metal fortress. Kim debarked, and asked the pilot to wait. "And thanks again for helping me out, Colonel Washburn! It was a bit out of the way!"

"Least I could do, Kim! After you got me into the test-pilot program at the space center..."

"No big, I know a guy. Great landing by the way. Real smooth."

"Hey, I am a leaf on the wind!"

"Uh, sure you are."

Will met Kim at the vault door, and led her to the visitor's room. It was divided in half by armored glass, and a telephone link was provided between the inmate and the visitor. There was just one. Obviously they didn't expect many visitors at the same time. Or at all.

"After you, Miss Possible. Please hurry. I'm not sure how much time we have."

"I'll try my best. Y'know, being an amateur and all." She wasn't sure he picked up on the sarcasm.

"Quite." He excused himself.

Kim sat down in her chair. Shego was brought in by a pair of uniformed guards, one a stocky man with a red beard, the other a short man with a goatee. The guards stepped back to the rear wall, and flanked the door. Shego picked up her telephone.

Kim did the same. "What is this all about, Shego?"

"Oh, what? No small talk, no witty banter, just straight to the point? You got a date or something?"

"I do. Where's the device!"

"What, you do? Rebounded from Eric so quick? Some jock on the football team, perhaps? Or the chess club?"

"No. The sweetest, most compassionate friend a girl could ever ask for…"

"The buffoon? Stoppable? It is, isn't it? Hah!"

Kim could swear she saw the guards chuckle at that. "What, he's not just some goofball, he's at home making me dinner right now."

"I'm sure he'll be an excellent wife, someday."

"Oh, that is it. You are going to get it if you don't tell me what is going on right now!"

"How about we show you."

"What?" Kim was held fast to the chair by retractable manacles. Mechanical clamps extended from the phone receiver around her head. She could see the same happen to Shego. She felt a sudden flow of electricity. It felt almost…familiar.

She blacked out for a moment. When she could see again, she was looking at herself. From the other side of the glass.

Doctor Drakken entered the room, from the visitor's side. He unhooked the manacles on the chair. "Everything check out?"

"Yeah," Kim saw herself say. But it wasn't her voice.

"Here, take this." Drakken fixed a choker around Kim's neck. But it wasn't Kim's neck anymore.

"Check, check one. I'm an snotty, self absorbed princess with an inferiority complex!" The voice was a perfect impression, now.

"Excellent, Shego. Go, your ride awaits. Just remember to come back with the cargo-craft to get us before the five-oh gets wise."

"Hey, Doc, relax. I can do anything!"

The real Kim shouted to the guards posted in her side of the room. "Hey! Why aren't you guys…"

She got a good look at them, when they lifted their caps. Duff Killigan and Professor Dementor.

"No. No!"

The two guards started to laugh their respective villain laughs. Killigan spoke up first. "Ye should see the look on ye face right now, lassie!"

"Oh, no, Herr Killigan. It is not _her_ face, not her face AT ALL!"

Drakken and 'Kim' walked out the door, and shut off the light on the visitor's side. The real Kim could see her reflection in the glass. It was the green-tinted face of her own worst enemy.

_Bum-bum-bummmmmm! How will KP escape this peril? Will Shego have fun at dinner? Will Justine and Zita ever let Ron watch? Will the good Colonel Washburn now suffer a horrific death, having uttered the killer catchphrase? Stay tuned to this website! Random Bluetooth time, random Bluetooth I.P. address! Stay piratical!_


	4. Shego Cell, Pandora This Evening

_Time again (finally) for more from this amazing epic of goofy proportions. Thanks to all who reviewed and waited patiently.  
_

_Sorry for the epic delay. It was easy enough to write three chapters over my Thanksgiving break, but somehow I never found the time, and then five months went by–anyway, back on the horse! (You might want to re-read earlier chapters. I think they may be due for a re-write, but I'd much sooner concentrate on finishing up. Should be one or two more chapters after this one.)  
_

_All characters are, of course, owned by the Disney Company, who I like a lot more now than I did in the past. (4th season, baby! Yeah! I am so looking forward to this story being contradicted by future material sometime in 2007!)_

* * *

**04 – Shego Cell (Pandora Tonight)**

Colonel Washburn saw his teen passenger re-emerge from the prison. "So, we gotta go chase down a doomsday device?"

All she responded with was "No."

"So, what, it was a prank?"

"Yeah."

"Back to Middleton, then?"

"Hmmph."

As the aircraft lifted off into the dark Antarctic sky, Dr. Drakken returned to the visitor room.

"Please excuse us, gentlemen. I'd like to berate the captive in private." Drakken motioned for Dementor and Killigan to leave.

"And why should ye get to deliver the gloating plan explanation!" Killigan was not one to share.

"Indeed. It was as much **our** victory as it was **your own**!"

"Look, we can all take turns gloating over her later, but it was my plan, so I call dibs!"

Dementor snorted, and opened the door. Killigan followed him out, muttering. "Him and his superior dib callin'…"

After they had gone, Drakken returned the new resident in his sidekick's body. "Alone at last."

"I have to admit, Drakken. Building a brain-switch machine into the visitor room telephone? That's pretty clever."

"Oh, that's not the half of it! This prison doesn't _have _a visitor room!"

**Six days previous:**

"It's brilliant, Shego. Provided I can find parts, I can rebuild my Brain Switcher machine into a visitor room intercom telephone…"

"Doc, this is a high-security facility. Even _we_ don't know where it is. Why would there be a visitor room?"

"Wha…"

**Three hours after that:**

"Okay, Shego. Minor strategy change." Drakken pulled out an elaborate confection he'd thrown together. "Here's a model for a phony visitors room, made by repurposing the kitchen robots. It is constructed of sponge cake, icing and a window made of rock candy."

"Oh. Looks tasty. So what would the full-size version be made of?"

"Sponge cake, icing and rock candy. Weren't you listening?"

**Back in the present:**

Drakken licked the window. "Mmm, sweet, sweet deception!"

"Ew! Window tongue!" Kim winced a bit.

"Oh, grow up." He chuckled to himself. "I suppose we did that for you, now that I think about it."

"Well, how did you get Will Du involved? Even he's too sharp for this plan to go off under his nose!"

"Our Mr. Du's nose is nowhere nearby. This prison is totally un-staffed; it's automated! I have to admit, it's not a bad thought. Robots can't be bribed, influenced, seduced, or bored to death. Their programming could be influenced, of course, but the authorities were careful to exclude devices that could be used for such. We might have stayed in here forever, if not for the personal effects room."

"A personal effects room? Like, lockers for what you had on you when you were brought in?" Kim was a bit confused. _Why would they put it at the prison? It'd make more sense to put it at the **opposite** pole of the Earth!_

"Oh, more than that: it's a vault containing our captured super-devices. We've barely scratched the surface of what's contained there. Parts recovered from my old brain-swap machine, for one. We found enough computer parts to take control of the security system; our Mr. Du is probably running the show from a laptop in Australia, sipping beverages on Bondi Beach blissfully unaware that anything is happening here! It's perfect! We just reprogrammed his little hologram that he uses to taunt us, check it!" He spoke to the walls, "Can we fly in Du, please?"

Will Du appeared in the room. He did a belly dance, cut a loud fart, and said, "I'm an ignorant fool, who works for a stupid dummy-head who can't even acknowledge her own older brother…"

"Thank you, Gemini, that's plenty!" The image disappeared.

"So why the deception? Why not just radio for a break-out?" Kim started to work her bonds, she could feel them slipping. It was only a matter of time. _Come on, Drakken. Keep talking._

"Our communications link ends with the GJ mainframe. The only exploitable backdoor was a direct link to your computer-geek friend; oh, what trouble he'll be in when GJ finds that! But I digress. Soon, Shego will be free; in your hometown and your body, able to exploit your resources to come and free me secretly!"

A loud throat-clearing noise came over the loudspeakers in the room.

Drakken caught himself, "Us! I mean us! And now, Kim Possible, I leave you to wait quietly." He nodded to no-one in particular.

Gas streamed into Kim's side of the room. She was out like a light inside a minute.

* * *

The aircraft touched down in Kim's neighborhood a bit after seven in the evening. Shego gave Washburn the brush-off and plodded into the house of Possible. The smell of fresh plaster and paint assaulted her nose, and bare boards were visible overhead. She spied a note taped to the inside of the door: 

Kimmy-cub,

Mom and I went on our own little date. We dropped the boys with your aunt and cousin. Have fun with Ronald (but not too much).

Dad

_A date, with the buffoon! How low the mighty have fallen, eh Princess?_ Shego stalked up the stairs to Kim's bedroom.

Inside, she picked out some clothes for herself. _Let's see: green sweater, black shirt, green capris, one green sock, one black… good enough for now._

She stripped off Kim's mission outfit, but paused before re-dressing herself.

She stood at Kim's vanity, looking back at her reflection with disgust. _Ugh, this hair! I hate red. And what does this girl eat, rice cakes and water three times a day? I guess she could have some decent curves, after a few years of steaks and weight-training. With some work, I could get used to it…_

She shook her head violently to shake out the ill-conceived thoughts crowding her borrowed skull. _No! Stick to the plan: get to airport, steal plane, fly to Caribbean lair, get spare cargo craft, go pick up Drakken, double-cross others, leave! Easy!_

A few minutes later, she was dressed and ready to go. She locked the Kimmunicator in Kim's dresser drawer and made for the front door. She was startled to find Ron on the other side, dressed casually and holding a picnic basket. He leaned in for a welcoming peck on the cheek, but Shego skillfully pushed aside saying, "Not tonight, lover-boy, I have stuff going on!"

"Aw, what is this KP, playing coy?" He held up the basket. "I worked hard on this Fettuccini Alfredo!"

Shego stopped short. "Fettuccini Alfredo?"

"Yes ma'am, the finest Chez Ron cuisine, with special blanket-side service in Middleton Park!"

Just then a smell hit Shego through Kim's nose; a heavenly aroma of delicate seasonings and robust flavor. "Is that—homemade garlic bread I smell?"

"Oh, you know it!"

_It smells so good! I haven't been able to eat; the side-effects from those power-dampers were making me queasy all week. But my body can't digest milk—wait a sec. My body can't, but this one…_She turned to Ron, and did her best to fake a sweet smile. "Let's be off, then!"

"Alright! Our chariot awaits!" He gestured over to a beat-up old brown minivan, something long past the prime of its operational life, and extremely unfashionable even when brand-new. Ron giggled nervously, "My, uh, my dad said I could borrow the van since my scooter's completely kaput."

Shego sighed. She hoped to herself that the meal would be worth being seen in such company.

* * *

Kim awoke from her drugged sleep, still groggy, to the noise of someone in the room. She saw the light on the security camera go out, as its cable was severed. 

_Someone's making a try at me! I gotta get loose! Oh, I can barely move!_

"Miss Possible!" came a hushed voice. "I'm here to help you get out!"

Kim strained to recognize the speaker. "Who are you?"

"That does not matter. I will aid your escape, and the re-capture of the other inmates, if you negotiate for a reduced sentence when you get back to, well, yourself. My robust tan is fading in the darkness here!"

"Junior?"

"Uh, no! It is, um, Frugal Lucre!"

"Give it up, Junior, and turn on the darn light!"

"Yes Ma'am."

Kim was shocked to see him. His face was unshaven, his skin had grown pale, and his hair was a mess.

"Now you see my freakish degeneration! My curse! You must get me out, to some place where the sun and Le Goop are not beyond my reach! I beg you!"

"Ok, Junior. You help me, and I'll see what I can do. But, as you can probably tell, I'm having a bit of an image crisis myself."

"I think you look perfectly presentable."

"Yes, but I don't look like me!"

"Point taken; but one step at a time." Junior stepped forward, shattering the stale cake walls of Kim's cell into sweet-smelling crumbs. "Mmm, how tasty! But murder on the thighs, I am certain."

"Good, now these ropes. For some reason, I can't budge them."

Junior tried them, to no result. "Hold on a moment." He bent down, and bit through the arm of the chair. "Fruitcake!"

"Drakken, you insidious madman!" She slipped the freed strap off her wrist, and broke the rest of her bonds loose from the chair. "I think the gas is wearing off, I'm starting to feel a bit stronger."

"Strong enough to take on a prison full of dangerous super-villains?"

"Unless I miss my guess," Kim did a few stretches, and put on a smirk worthy of her body's true owner, "I'm currently the most dangerous thing on this continent!"

* * *

_Back to work on the tale of woe! Excellent! Chapter 4 in less than five months. A lot less._  



	5. Night Life, Without Parole!

So, Kim's in Shego's body, Shego's in Kim's, Kim's body is in Ron's van and Ron's out of cluedium! Where will it all end! Stay tuned! To this BT (the P) station, for:

* * *

**05 – Night Life – Without Parole!**

"Now this is something!"

Kim was pumped. What was more, she was motivated. Shego and Drakken had been meddling in her personal life far too often, and there's only so much a person can take. But at the moment, she was distracted. She was feeling the kind of physical power she'd only felt before from the wrong end of a roundhouse kick. Once she was unbound and able to try Shego's body out, she was definitely impressed.

"She's got really well-built quads! Great tone and density, biceps like rocks; my body's still a few years from this development stage. Shego's definitely in her prime—and would you look at this butt!" Kim had caught sight of a reflection in a piece of stainless-steel paneling.

Junior had a sudden panic attack, "No! I don't want to look! I looked before, and the consequences were dire! _Dire_, I tell you!"

Kim could just barely stifle an incredulous chuckle. "Let me guess: you were hot for teacher, and she was cold as ice?"

"Colder and angrier. She was like a tornado made of fingernails and knees!"

"Worth it?"

"Yes. Yes it was."

Kim rediscovered her purpose, and got down to business. She carefully extracted the brain-switcher from its power source, and wrapped it in her jacket. She tied it into a bundle, and gave it to Junior, saying, "Carry this, and keep it safe."

"Why not simply leave it here?"

"Oh no, not a chance. This thing is staying close by me. As high-performance as this key-lime chassis is, I want my native skin back. This is my ticket, and I don't want one of those cackling, meddling idiots holding it hostage. We're going to round them up, find the communication links that they used to get me here, bring Global Justice, and clean this up. Then, I go get my figure back. Where're the linkups?"

"Behind the properties room, past the big vault door they thought we couldn't open. But why am I carrying the machine?"

"Because, I need to have my hands free to fight. Like, say for instance, him."

On cue, Doctor Drakken came around a corner, whistling a happy tune, oblivious to what was going on. He passed between Kim and Junior, on his way back to the visitor room. "Good day, rich-guy's son. Good day, Shego." He continued on through the door. A moment later, Kim and Junior heard his panicked cry, "Aaah! Kim Possible has escaped!"

He ran back to Kim and Junior, "You, Euro-trash guy! We need to close off the exits. Shego! We need to—oh. Oh, wait. You're Kim Possible."

"That's right. How could you forget?" Kim grabbed his collar.

"Well, ah, I've had a lot on my mind, and see, the thing is…"

"Let me jog your memory." Kim released Drakken, and as he tried to bolt, she delivered a roundhouse knee to his abdomen. Drakken flew across the study; he spun around in the air, and landed, inverted, in one of the overstuffed armchairs. The chair fell flat, and Drakken let out a low groan.

Junior was flabbergasted for a moment. "I think you jogged him too hard."

Kim was equally so. "Yeah, it's all the extra strength. I've got to be careful."

"I wonder if Shego's having as much fun with your body as you are with hers."

"I don't know what she would do with mine that…" Kim's mind flashed through all the possibilities, and none of them were good. "We have to hurry! She's got my reputation, my youth, and my virginity in her—I mean my—hands!"

"Well, she's going to come back here for the rest of us, right?"

"I don't know that she will. I honestly don't know."

Kim and Junior rushed off to round up the rest of the inmates.

Drakken was barely lucid enough to hear Kim's last remark. As he slipped out of consciousness, his mind was troubled. _She is coming back, right?

* * *

_

Shego's mind was far from "The Plan". At that moment, it was fixated on the insidiously appetizing aroma emanating from the picnic basket Ron had carefully secured in his father's van.

"Come on, Blondie! When do we eat?"

Ron was still missing the clues. "Oooh, we're making up pet names now? Ok, Sweetbread, I just need to do a quick check-up on the sitter." He pulled the van up on a house a few blocks from the Possibles'. A quick hop, skip, and jump to the door, and he rang the bell.

Kim's cousin Larry answered the door. "Ah, greetings Lord High Master Ronald. How fares the courtship rituals?"

"Well enough, Lar, but Kim kinda seems off tonight. Oh, you think she's nervous?"

"About this? I would be, but Kim's so brave all the time…" Larry scratched his head.

"Yeah, but she's always been more nervous about dating than villains. That's got to be it. I just need to get her to relax." He refocused on his original goal. "Are you sure you can handle watching Kim's brothers and Rufus?" He handed the sleeping naked-mole-rat to Larry.

"Actually, one helps with the other. But I also called in a favor."

"Wow, is that a family gift, or what?"

"No, we just help people. In this case, it's a girl from my 'World of Everlot' guild; I helped her power-level her ranger to sixty last week. We're having a little LAN party tonight, and maybe after the boys go home…" Larry nudged Ron in the ribs with his elbow.

Zita walked around the corner from the living room. "Hey, Larry, what's up—Ron! How are you doing, bro?"

"Zita? You and Larry hang out?"

"On _WOE_, we're tight. Lar, we're running low on snacks, there more in the kitchen?"

"Sure thing, Zee." Larry winked back at Ron as Zita left the foyer. "She's so into me, I can tell! She even brought over a friend, this super-smart girl named Justine. It's like when Princess Autolyca and Lady Payne went to Senator Bernalus to beg for his support, in the deleted scene from episode 2! That one would have cost them PG-13, for sure!" He looked like he was about to melt into his own shoes.

"Yeah, Larry. About Zita and Justine..." Ron was working up the nerve. The truth was hard, and this one was like a diamond-tipped cannonball.

Shego leaned on the horn. Her patience was running out.

"Gotta go. Thanks again, pal, and good luck!"

"Don't need it, but thanks." He shouted past Ron. "Have a good time, cousin!"

_Whatever, nerdlinger._ She contemplated just digging in right there. The anticipation was slowly killing her, but she could hold out a little longer. She needed to maintain her cover; the longer everyone thought she was Kim, the longer she had to finish the plan. Drakken wouldn't notice: the Antarctic night is a full six months long.

* * *

"Oh, me precious clubs! How yer daddy missed ye!" Duff finally got the lock off the heavily-reinforced locker containing his personal effects. He retrieved his bag, and pulled a spare kilt from one of the pockets. "And this! It'll be high time I got out of these horrid, restricting trousers!" 

"Oh whatever, Herr Killigan. Ve must make do as _kvickly_ as possible. No telling when this whole plan might collapse around us, and I for one need to be ready to fight. _Curse_ this _lock_!" Professor Dementor was desperately picking at his own locker.

"At least you have two hands to work with." Gemini was having no better luck. "Just wait until I get my cyber-arm back out of this infernal box—Killigan, blow this door off with one of your explosive golf balls!"

"Nay! First theng's first. Off to change!"

"Fine. But hurry back, and for the love of evil, wear something under the kilt!" Gemini winced and covered his eye.

"I'll do as I please, and I'd thank you not to fixate on me underpinnings!" Killigan shouldered his bag, and stalked past the vault door.

Duff went to the shower room. It was the only one, but during Shego's time there she had managed to block off several hours a day for herself (or else). Killigan changed into his kilt, and was about to return to the vault room when he heard a noise echo off the tile. He spun around to find Junior. "Agh, ya wee peeping tom! I said before, this golfer don' swing that way!"

"This isn't about—wait, do I come off as a little pansy-boy to you?"

"Like a gymnast on shore leave!" Duff was very self-assured in his judgment. "With your slicked hair and fancy clothes!"

"They are the same as everyone's clothes, and at least I don't wear a skirt!"

"Ye nancy papa's boy! Ye can't have none of the Duffer! I'll jack ya good!"

Junior looked completely past Killigan to the shadows behind. "How long must I endure this horrible distraction business?"

Duff spun around, to be greeted by a heavy-gloved fist to the face. He reeled back, but didn't fall. He was definitely tougher than Drakken.

Kim readied herself. Killigan could make out the silhouette of Drakken's sidekick against the dim light. "Oh, ho. The wee lass is taking advantage of being a temporary grown-up! Playing a locker room game, eh? Well I play the game of kings!"

"Isn't that fencing?"

"Not where I come from. Fore!" One of his drivers leapt from his bag, propelled by a gas thruster. It hit his hand, and a ball dropped form the head to rest before him. "How appropriate you're green, I'll make a divot in yer face!"

His shot was like cannon fire, but Kim was too fast for it. Shego's muscles and tendons were tighter than a jungle cat's; the dodge was effortless. The ensuing explosion broke a few water pipes, and Kim was sure the others had heard it. She had to work fast. She ran across the wall of mirrors, flipped over Duff's head, and landed in position to grab him from behind.

Duff saw it coming. He brought his driver around and hooked his opponent's ankle. Kim fell to the floor, face down, and Duff sat on her back. He brought the handle of his club under her chin, and pulled back to choke her.

"How do ye like this, lassie!"

Kim struggled to speak, "Shego will—agh—kill you if she doesn't get her body back!" Her arms were burning; Shego's power was trying to escape its containment.

"She's got yours, and I don't think she minds! Normal color, young, no criminal record, beloved by the world; and who would nay want to be a natural redhead?"

"Someone who likes the sun. But never mind her. Check this out!" Junior spoke from the opposite side of the room. He held one of Duff's exploding golf balls, active, over a high-pressure toilet.

"Wait, nay!" Duff tried to stop him.

Junior dropped the ball, and flushed. He dove for cover.

The toilet exploded off the wall. The high-pressure line blasted Duff with a torrent of cold water; he was thrown back into the mirrored wall. He slid down, unconscious, onto the counter.

Kim crawled out of the way. "Thanks."

"No problem. But now you owe me more, and I aim to collect."

"I always return a favor, Junior," she replied with caution, "y'know, if I can."

She tied Killigan to a pipe with his own discarded trousers, and the two prison-breakers traveled on to towards the property room.

* * *

Drakken had worried to himself for nearly an hour. He was flustered, confused. He wasn't sure if he could trust Shego to come back. 

_What if she's abandoned me? _he thought. _What if, after all this, she really want's Kim Possible's life? She'd leave me to rot, after all I've done for her, with her, and to her?_

He readied his makeshift supplies, and the rather crude winter gear he'd assembled. He took some of the remaining visitor room walls as emergency food, and set off through the door into the Antarctic wasteland. _ Better to take my chances out here, than to stay behind and wait for the law to come back. Blast you, Shego! _He disappeared into the white-out.

* * *

Kim entered the darkened room with great caution, and left Junior outside to guard the brain-switcher. She was certain the remaining villains knew she was coming. 

She was right. Dementor tried to take her by surprise. She moved aside quickly, but the little scientist was surprisingly spry.

"I don't know why you even try! You're all scientists and administrators. Without your equipment and henchmen, you can't take me!" Kim was showing a bit of Shegoesque bravado.

"I think we stand a decent chance, don't we, Herr Gemini?"

Gemini came around the corner, and raised his hand. "Yes, Professor; now that I've been re-armed!"

Dementor bolted. Gemini fired a rocket from his fingertip, missing Kim by an inch. She rolled behind a row of lockers, and got low to the ground. She went stealthy, trying to get the drop on Gemini, approaching from his eye-patched side. He was quick on the draw. A rocket fired, and Kim couldn't dodge. She held her arms up to protect herself.

The explosion carried her back into a locker. Gemini approached where his adversary fell, chuckling quietly. "My sister thinks so highly of you. How misguided she is." He jumped back, startled, as Kim sat up. She held up her—um, Shego's—right hand. The lock fell away from the damping gauntlet, and the glove itself slipped off.

"Oh, uh, oh my." Gemini took a tentative step back.

Kim lit Shego's hand. The feeling was incredible, like scratching an itch after having a cast removed. She fooled with it a bit, and concentrated the power in her index finger. With a flick, the other lock was gone. She advanced on Gemini, both hands aglow. He reeled back, and readied his hand for another shot. She was on him too quickly, and the cybernetic hand was sheared off in one pass.

"Ah! Please, Kim Possible! Have mercy!"

"Say goodnight, Gemini!" She reeled back to strike him.

Gemini closed his eye. Then, Kim bought Shego's head down into his, and he was out like a light.

Kim spun around, and lit the green glow up even hotter. "Dementor!"

The Professor was trying to crawl away. When he caught Kim's gaze, he looked left, looked right, and lumped into a nearby locker. He closed the door after himself. "I shall just stay here, zhen, ja?"

"You always were the smartest villain. Junior!"

Junior entered the room, carrying the device. He seemed to be shocked when he saw Kim. "Ah! Miss Possible!"

"Yeah, I got the glow working, and it rocks!"

"No, uh, not that!"

Kim took a look at herself. Her shirt had been completely burned off by the eruption of power, and hung in tattered, charred shreds around her waist. Shego's chest had been laid bare. "Oh. I don't care, they're not mine."

"Excellent." Junior re-opened his eyes, and fixed his gaze at Kim's center-of-mass.

"That doesn't mean you get to leer!"

"Sorry!" He re-closed them.

Kim looked around the room, and caught sight of a bit of green cloth poking out from one of the half-destroyed lockers. "Here's something I know will fit."

Shego's locker didn't contain a new bra, so Kim went without. As she slipped into the suit, it felt almost too loose, like it was tailored to fit a size eight. As soon as the zipper was closed, her whole tune changed; the suit adjusted itself, tightening around her with even pressure, moving and constricting until it felt like it wasn't even there. Kim did a few lunges and kicks, and was surprised by how easily she could move. She jumped in place, and felt not even the slightest uncomfortable bounce. _Wow, this thing's put together like a suspension bridge! It could make Lara Croft feel like a ten-year-old gymnast! No wonder Shego hasn't traded-in for something more fashionable!_

She went back into the property room, collected Junior, and they headed for the electrical switching box at the outer wall.

Kim made a cursory analysis of the tangled web of patch-cords and circuitry._ A mess; definitely Drakken._ She finally found a place where a phone receiver could be plugged in. "Uh oh. I don't have a phone handy. Junior, is there a phone receiver around here, somewhere?"

"There's a couple on this thing." He held up the bundle containing the brain-switch machine.

"No, those are modified."

"Oh, wait. I saw something earlier. I'll get it." Junior returned a moment later with a curious device, resembling a phone, but not quite.

"Junior, that's Professor Dementor's Transportulator!"

From his locker, Dementor could just barely make out the conversation, but that came through. "My Transportulator was here all along! Ach! Mein lieber, we could have all been free months ago!"

"Quiet, you!" Kim snapped back.

"Jawol, Miss Possible!" He fell silent.

"First thing's first; outside line. I wish Wade were here. Or Rufus, even…" She set about connecting the device.

* * *

At that moment, on Bondi Beach, Australia, the collected senior staff members of Global Justice were having a beach party. They had good reason, most of the world's most dangerous criminals were behind bars, the remains were lying low, and life was good. Doctor Director, dressed in a one-piece racing suit, sarong and floral eye-patch, picked up a Mai Tai from the barkeep, and wandered over to the table where some of her underlings were gathered. Will Du, her top agent, was poring over a laptop PC. Crash Cranston, Dash Deman, and Burn Berman, formerly of Team Impossible and their newest recruits, were with him; fresh off a game of beach volleyball against some of the nursing staff. 

"Come on, Du, lighten up. You said it yourself, that prison is secure." Dash couldn't abide laziness, but since this vacation was paid, he considered it a crime to not enjoy himself.

"Very well." Du closed his computer.

Doctor Director seated herself. "Any problems, Will?"

"None at all, Ma'am. All security checks out. My, that is a lovely bathing suit."

"Don't butter me up, Will. That may work on civilians, but—what are you snickering at?"

Crash and Burn straightened up instantly, and replied in synch, "Nothing, Doctor Director, Ma'am!"

A tone sounded from Will's laptop. He popped it open, and looked at the status displays for SCIDD-Mark I. "Oh, my. Some prisoner's gotten to the communications switches, and is trying to dial out!"

"That naughty criminal!" said Crash.

"Break in on him!" Burn's curiosity was piqued.

Will opened the microphone circuit. "Attention inmate. Nice try, but return to the contained area at once!"

"Will? Will Du, is that you?" A familiar voice came over the speaker.

"Kim Possible? What kind of trick is this!"

"Will, you've lost control of the prison. Shego's out, the inmates are in control, and I'm stuck in here!"

That is quite impossible!" Will opened a cascade of video windows, all showed normal prison activity. "There is nothing untoward going on, whoever you are!"

"Oh really!" At the other end of the line, Kim pulled out a handful of video patch-cords.

Will's videos cut out, then reverted to the real camera views. He saw the ruined rooms, the unconscious villains, the open door, the scattered baked-goods…

"Wha—how—what…"

Doctor Director pushed Will back; he was in a state of catatonia. "Kim, this is Doctor Director. Explain what has happened."

"No time. I need an outside phone line, now! Shego's in my hometown, and I need to contact my friends and family!"

"Done. I'll debrief you later." The good doctor keyed a few commands, and the line was open. "How did they get access to communications gear?"

"I think they got it all from the villain property room. I have to go. Kim out!" The line went dead.

Doctor Director just sat for a moment. "Why was the property room co-located with the prison?"

Burn spoke up. "Well, as the new director of accounts, I thought it would be more cost-effective for the construction, if both facilities were, uh, together?"

"Well, I can think of somewhere better that you could have put it."

"Where?"

She was shouting at the top of her lungs, "Anywhere!" She calmed down just a bit. "Scramble a strike team to that prison, mop up, and for crap's sake do it now!"

"Yes, ma'am!" The three big men dashed off for the base; calling to any agents they passed. Doctor Director sank into her chair, and downed her drink in one gulp. "Ugh, why oh why did I take them on?"

* * *

Kim connected the rest of the Transportulator, picked up, and heard a dial tone. "Yes! Now, where to call. My house! No, no-one's home. Wade! No, I don't know his exact location, I need to be near my house. Got it!" 

She turned to Junior, "You helped me, so I'll do what I can to get you and your father's sentences reduced. Try to keep the other villains contained, and follow instructions when GJ gets here. I have to go."

"Wait, Kim Possible, one thing."

"What?"

Junior scooped her up in his arms, and pressed his lips hard against Kim's borrowed set. She was shocked, and took a moment to regain herself. When it was over, she was silent for a moment.

She came back with, "Woah! Junior, what was that about?"

"Well, I…"

"Was that for me?" she asked, "or for Shego?"

Junior actually looked abit bashful, "I really just wanted to see what it was like, y'know, curiosity and all, but I like my legs in their current, un-fractured state, so…"

"Say no more. Take care." She dialed the phone, and shouldered the brain-switcher bundle. When the line picked up, she said, "Stand back!" And she was gone in a flash of green light.

"I am disappointed in you, Junior." Senor Senior, Sr. entered the light. "I've been watching you. A shameful display, aiding the heroine? And for what, a shorter sentence? Pay attention, I am berating you!"

Junior was dialing the phone. "Father, what is the area code for Paris?"

Senior was temporarily agape. Then, he was close to tears, crying out, "Son. My son, such a double-cross! I have never been more proud!"

"Quiet, father, it is ringing!"

* * *

Francoise was just opening the shop for the day, when his phone rang. "Oui oui, Francoise's salon? Ah, Senor Senior, Junior! No, all is forgiven for such good customers! Le Goop? We have much in stock, when shall you be by to get it? What do you mean 'right now'?"

* * *

_Next up: Kigo vs. Shekim, er, Kimego vs. Shegim, uh, something! Plus - Will Larry score? No, but his failure will entertain us. Schadenfreude rules! (Look it up.)  
_


	6. Run, Kimmy, Run!

Thanks for sticking it out, folks, were down to the home stretch! Thanks to my reviewers, some of the gang at ARA, and everyone else who bothered to read. Keep an eye open for more stuff from me. I've got about a half-dozen ideas for additional stories, but I'm fairly sure the next will be "The Legend of Black Bonnie", a story of high-seas adventure and mystery! Arr!

Remember, I don't own any of the characters, the Disney folks do. I recommend they do some more cool stuff with them, to tide us over until season 4; but that's just me.

* * *

**06—Run, Kimmy, Run!**

Larry couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to have _less_ company. Sure, he got out once in a while, but he spent a lot of Saturday nights alone; surfing the net and watching videos, wishing that someone would come over. Now, he had his eleven-year-old twin cousins, his friend's pet rodent, and two cute girls in his basement gaming room, and he wished that three of them weren't there.

He and Zita were side-by-side at one end of the oversized table he used for paper RPGs, he on his desktop PC, Zita on her notebook. They were playing _World of Everlot_, locked into a pitched battle with a Grave Wraith in the Bog of Necromancy. In the middle of the table, Rufus was munching deep into a pile of "Pop-Pop Porter's Cheez-ish Food-Like Carbohydrate/Nitrogen Puffs".

At the far end, Justine was debating the tweebs on esoteric physics theory. She diagrammed her models on the big whiteboard Larry used to chart out combat scenes. "Why would you want to fold space inside your bedroom closet?" she asked.

Tim responded first. "We want to make it bigger on the inside…"

"…than it is on the outside!" Jim followed up.

"You've been watching old 'Doctor What' episodes, haven't you. Well, I suppose using a gravi-magnetic dimensional impeller could compress the void scaling constant found there…" She set about scrawling a huge equation on the whiteboard.

Larry interrupted her. "I'm not sure that it's such a good idea to teach them how to fold space; my Uncle Jim is just now finishing the repairs to their house."

Justine was not fazed, stating very matter-of-factly, "A scientist is not responsible for the applications her theory engenders."

Zita butted in, with a touch of sarcasm. "Oh, that's a real good attitude there, Doctor Strangelove." She looked back to her screen. "Larry, I need a healing spell!"

Justine gave Zita the raised eyebrow. "Strangelove, huh? Not tonight, if you keep that sass up."

"What? Oh, right, spell." Larry tapped a couple hotkeys. On the screen, his Elvin priest cracked of a "Holy Interdiction", melting two minor zombies and topping up Zita's HP in one shot.

"Wicked move, Lar! OK, now for the Wraith—oh no!" Zita looked on in impotent horror, as two ghostly apparitions appeared on her screen. "Someone aggro'd another group! Larry, we need to…" She trailed off, as her screen filled with the dark smoke and ichor-spewing horror of the "Unmaker's Torment" spell. When it cleared, a shining ghost of her character was standing in the virtual graveyard. "Ack! Darn it! Hey, buddy, can I get a rez?"

"Sorry, Zita," Larry stammered nervously, "looks like he got me, too." He heard the phone start to ring. "Hang on, I need to get that." He made for the other side of the room.

Jim took the opportunity to talk behind Larry's back. "He's got it bad!"

"Yeah, he wants a crack at Zita's cooties!" Tim was, as usual, in agreement.

"Don't be such little wisenheimers, boys." Justine turned a disapproving eye to them.

Jim shot back. "How can you be so casual about it? He's hitting..."

"On your girlfriend!" Tim finished.

"I'm very secure in our—wait, what do you know about…"

"Oh, come on! We do have…"

"…the internet!"

Justine blinked at them. "Oh. Well, then." She returned to the whiteboard.

* * *

Larry picked up the phone, with his usual "Greetings, this is Larry." After a brief pause he said, "Stand back? What do you…" 

He saw a bright green light. And a moment later, he was pinned to the floor. An unfamiliar female figure was on top of him, her chest in his face.

Zita saw it happen, and was over to the scene first. "Whoa, what are you supposed to be, green lady; some kind of sexy orc?"

"Shego!" Tim and Jim said in unison. "Gotta go!"

"Dial it back, tweebs! It's me, Kim." She rolled off of Larry, who was frozen on the ground, with a wide grin on his face. "Zita? What's going on?"

Zita said, "Isn't that more my line?"

"Good point. Long story short, some bad guys used a brain-switch machine to put me in the body of one of my enemies, I used an experimental teleport device to come back to town, and now I have to find her in a big hurry!" She stopped to catch her breath.

Zita put on a puzzled expression. "Wait, I saw you with Ron an hour ago!"

"That wasn't me; that was Shego! What, is she trying to steal my boyfriend now? That's just so _low_! I have to find them, fast!"

She picked up the bundle containing the brain-switcher. She heard a few components rattle inside. "Oh, no! I think the brain-switcher's broken!"

Justine approached her. "Let me see that." She made a cursory inspection. "This appears to be based on the discredited research of Doctor Brian Swintzer. It actually works?"

"Twice on me, at least. You know it?"

"I can figure it out. Leave it with me, I'll get it working." She hoisted the machine onto her shoulder, and headed up to the electronics workshop Larry's dad maintained in the garage. She passed the tweebs on the way, saying, "Boys! Put down the catapult, we've got work to do!"

"Aww! We wanted to…"

"…chuck these rocks at her!"

Rufus scampered nervously over to Kim's foot, letting out a little worried squeak.

Kim patted his bald head. "Sorry, Rufus; no pockets. Help Justine fix that thing, okay?"

"Hnnk. Gd'luck!" Rufus bounded up the stairs after the Possible brothers.

Kim looked down at her cousin, sprawled on his back with a goofy grin on his face. "You okay, Larry?"

"Heh, soft…" he muttered to himself.

Kim turned to Zita. "Don't let him stay down too long, Zita; and do me a solid, access my website, and let Wade know the low-down. Tell him I'm on my way to my house to grab my gear!"

"That's gotta be a ten-minute drive, you have a ride waiting?"

"I'm taking a short-cut; it's faster if I don't take the street!" Kim bounded up the cellar stairs, out into the night. She jumped the back fence, and started on a direct dash back to her house, blowing through the neighbor's hedge with a flare of green light.

* * *

The scene by Ron's van, atop a hill in Middleton Park, was deeply confusing, at least to Ron. 

He'd eaten with Kim, on average, once every day for over a decade. She had a fast metabolism, and she often downed a lot more food than you'd think based on her size; but he absolutely could not believe what he was seeing now. His girlfriend had just messily horked down most of his carefully-prepared pasta meal like some Italian wood chipper. She'd finished both servings of noodles, the garlic bread, the salad, and as Ron looked on in partial disgust, she chugged the entire Thermos bottle of Alfredo sauce in one giant gulp. Then, she lay back on the picnic blanket, un-demurely patted her belly, and let off an earth-shattering belch.

Ron tried to be as delicate as possible, hoping to spare feelings. He stammered, "Uh, geez, KP, uh…"

"What?" She sounded a little cross.

"You might want to watch it. I mean, I'll like you regardless, no matter what you look like…"

"But?"

He used a very non-confrontational tone. "But—and I don't care if you don't—I think you might outgrow your cheerleading uniform if you keep this up."

Shego was wallowing in her self-indulgence; the biggest quantity of dairy products she'd been able to have in years, enough to overpower the enzyme supplements she normally used to fight her lactose-intolerance. Ron's did make her think, though. _I'm really going to ruin Kimmy's figure, aren't I. Bonus! _She grabbed Ron's collar, saying, "Stow it, cookie! Now, what's for dessert?"

* * *

Kim ran as fast as Shego's legs could carry her, and arrived at her own house in only a few minutes. She leapt in through one of the holes in the roof, bypassing the door, and dashed to her bedroom. From her dresser, she could hear the Kimmunicator beeping furiously. She answered it, "Wade! Thank goodness!" 

Wade came on the screen with a shocked look on his face. "Whoa, Kim? I guess it's true, then!"

"Unfortunately. Do you have a fix on Ron?"

"Of course. He's in the park, and, uh, 'you' are with him."

"Good. He's okay?"

"Near as I can tell."

Kim suddenly had a horrible thought. "Have they, um, done anything?"

"Kim, I haven't been spying on them! That would be heinously wrong!"

"Wade!"

"Ok, no. They've just been eating non-stop. Or, rather, _she's_ been eating non-stop. Here's the coordinates." His face disappeared, replaced by the GPS display.

A minute later, Kim was on her motorbike, roaring off into the night.

* * *

"Gimme the cheesecake!" Shego tried to snatch the basket away from Ron.

He dodged out of the way, and gripped the picnic basket in his teeth. He'd been keeping it away from her for a few minutes; she was stuffed to near bursting, but he was tired and hungy. "Kim, this is for your own good! Tough love time! Now tell me what's gotten in to you!"

He tried to shimmy up a tree, but Shego jumped up and grabbed his belt. She said, "I'll tell you what hasn't gotten into me: cheesecake!"

Ron slid out of his pants, and bolted around the far side of the van when Shego fell to the ground. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I know it's not normal!" He jumped in the slider, and out the tailgate, trying to lose her.

Shego caught up to Ron, and got him by the collar. He managed to slip out of his shirt as well. Shego finally tackled him, pressed his shoulders to the ground, and straddled him. "I'm sick of these games! Give it to me!"

Kim charged up the embankment. She'd stopped the bike a few yards back, afraid that Shego might hurt Ron if she lost the element of surprise. She stepped into view, and stopped short when she saw the scene: Ron was stripped to his boxers, 'she' was on top of him, crying out for Ron to "give it" to her?

"Shego!" She cried out, her voice tense with rage. "Get my hands off of him!"

Ron was finally had his fill of confusion. "Kim, why is Shego here, why is she talking like you, why are you acting funny, and—oh. Oh crap."

"It's taken this long?" Shego rendered him unconscious with a quick blow to the forehead. "Real bright bulb you have there, Possible."

"Ron!" Kim ran towards him, but her opponent blocked her. She asked, "What were you even doing here, Shego? I thought you'd be halfway back to Antarctica by now." The two women started to circle each other.

"I just stopped off to grab a quick bite. How'd you get back here so fast?"

"Dementor's Transportulator."

"That thing was in the prison?" Shego's face was a complex mix of annoyance and shock. "Why did we even bother—if I'd known about that, I'd have been out by day two!"

"Save it!" Kim tackled herself, and the bitter enemies grappled each other for control.

Shego doubled back, and planted her feet in Kim's, or really, her own abdomen. She landed a few feet away. "Oh, damn, that's going to leave a bruise! Be more careful with my stuff, Princess!"

"Oh, please! You don't want your body hurt, don't hit it!" That gave Kim an idea. She flipped herself over, and landed hard on her back. "That hurt, but it's worth it!"

Shego tried to bluff. "Who cares? Maybe I'll just keep this one; I can handle being seventeen again, for a while. Aren't you happy to have some curves for once?"

"Not like these." She gestured to Shego's chest. "They look like key limes with cocktail olives glued to them."

"And yours are like mosquito bites!" Shego ran forward to grab Kim again.

They came to blows, neither hitting very hard, but both trying in vain to win. They had tired each other out in a few minutes, and stood face to face, panting.

"Ugh, I'm going to hurl!" Shego grabbed at her borrowed stomach, holding back a monster retch.

"How much did you eat?"

"Too much. I gotta hand it to Zorpox over there; he can certainly fill a girl up right. Oh, wait, that came out wrong…"

"Glagh! Shego!" Kim lit her hands.

"Ok, this is new." Shego did a rolling dive, as a bolt of energy scorched by her head. "Watch it, princess! You almost made your hairstyle even worse!"

"It—it just slipped out!"

"Yeah, it does that sometimes. Try to think happy thoughts."

They leapt at each other again, and got stuck in a mutual headlock.

"Shego, let go!"

"No, you let go!" Shego brought her knee up into Kim's abdomen, sprawling her on the ground. "Hah! Even with my powers, there's no way you can—huh?"

She was gripped from behind by a pair of moderately skinny arms. Ron jumped on her back. "Ugh! Take that, you body-snatcher!"

"Honestly, Stoppable! If you're that lonely, take it up with her…"

Ron held a small container near her face.

"Okay, whazzat?"

Ron cracked the lid on the knockout lip-gloss. Shego was down inside a second.

Ron ran over to where Kim had fallen. "KP! That is you, right?"

"Ron! You're all right!" She wrapped her hands around his neck, and pulled his face down next to hers.

Ron put his hand between their mouths, blocking an inbound tounge. "Uh, KP? This night's been confusing enough for me, so how about we get you switched back before any hanky and/or panky?"

She released him. "Sure. Oh, wait, I need you to help tie me up!"

"What did I just say?"

* * *

Kim's bike pulled up to Larry's house, followed closely by Ron's van. Kim's body, with its nefarious tenant, was tied securely to one of the back seats. She had regained consciousness, and was starting to struggle and curse at Team Possible. 

Ron unlatched the seat; he and Kim lifted it free, and carried it towards the garage. Larry, Rufus, Zita, Justine, and the tweebs were all there. The machine appeared to be in better shape than it was before, but they could see the tweebs and, oddly, Larry working on it.

Zita was standing by the side of the door when they arrived. Kim noticed that she, strangely enough, had oven mitts duct-taped to her wrists. Kim called out to her, "We got Shego, uh, what's going on?"

"Well, cousin," Zita spoke in a voice distinctly not her own, "we've hit a tiny bit of a snag."

"Larry! Is that you? What happened here?"

"It was a bit of a mishap in testing," Kim heard Zita say. She turned to face her, but found Jim in her place. "We all got kinda randomly shuffled. Justine's almost got it, I think."

"So, was Larry doing some welding, or…" Ron pointed to the oven mitts.

Zita glared at herself. "No, I just wanted to make sure he didn't touch anything, especially himself.. I'd have told him to sit on his hands, but, well, that'd kind of defeat the purpose."

Over by the brain-switcher, Kim could see her cousin's body leaned over the machine. It was, apparently, home to Justine Flanner. "Urgh! A curse on your sausage-fingers, Larry!" She looked up. "Kim. I see Ronald is undamaged. Don't worry, this problem is well within my ability to solve."

Ron looked around the room. "Hey, Rufus! Where you at, buddy?"

Tim came around the corner. When he saw Ron, he started to squeak and jabber unintelligibly.

"Rufus? So that means…"

Ron looked over in the corner of the garage. He saw Justine, writhing around laughing in the voice of a tweeb. She looked like she was trying to reach a bump on her back, but it was moving around under her clothes.

Justine hit herself on Larry's forehead. "Ah, for the love of Newton. Tim! Don't stuff your brother down my shirt!" She returned to her work, and reconnected a final plug. "There. I have it all rigged up. It should put everyone back into their proper heads automatically."

Kim seemed puzzled. "What, all at once?"

"Yes, I've refined the principle. It should be able to return us to the bodies our minds naturally want to be in, if the theory is sound."

"Is the theory sound?" Ron asked.

"It's mine, so yes." She put her, or rather Larry's, hand on the switch. "Let's light this candle!"

"Hold it, Tesla. I'll be outside, I don't want to end up in the mix." Ron dashed out the garage door.

Justine threw the switch, and the garage was filled with arcs of electricity.

Ron was standing next to Kim when her vision cleared. "KP? You okay?"

Kim looked down at herself. A really ugly clothing combination, but it was definitely her own body. "Yeah. I think so. Everyone alright?"

Larry, Zita, Justine, and Rufus all replied in the affirmative. Kim looked over to the tweebs. "And you?"

"Uh oh." Tim said.

"I think we're in the wrong bodies!" said Jim.

"Then just switch shirts!" Ron suggested.

"Oh. Okay!" They said together.

Kim felt a horrible rumbling in her gut, her insides were in revolt. "Oh, geez! How much did you feed her?"

"Hey, normally you're the one to have all the self-control!" Ron grew contrite. "Kim, I'm sorry!"

"For what?"

"I should have known it wasn't really you. I don't know what happened, there."

"She's very tricky, Ron. Besides, you can't assume every time I act funny that I'm someone else. Hey, wait, where is…"

They heard the roar of a starting vee-twin, and the squeal of tires as the sport-bike tore off into the night.

"Ah, crap!" Kim lamented, "Shego stole my bike!"

"Well, it was Drakken's bike first, KP." Ron reminded her, as he struggled to untie her wrists from the seat.

"I guess. Let's just let it go, she won't be up to anything else tonight. I need to go home and digest."

"I'm sorry you didn't get to taste it," Ron said. "It's some of my best work, if I may say so!" He loaded the seat back into the van, and called for Rufus and the boys. "Tim, Jim! We're outie! Let's roll!"

"Oh, totally," Kim replied, as she settled herself into the passenger seat. "What's stuck in my teeth is just spankin'! I just hope I can avoid tasting it a second time."

* * *

Drakken was going to die. He knew it in his heart. It had been just over fifteen hours since he left the prison. It was night in the Antarctic, at least fifteen below. He sat, shivering, next to a barely-burning campfire made from a pile of pilfered books and toilet paper. 

He tried to eat some of his fruitcake furniture scraps, but they were frozen solid. _There's no point. No one will find me. Shego's not coming, the authorities won't be able to track me down, I'll be carrion for a hungry seal in no time! I hope he chokes on me!_

Off in the distance, he could just about make out a faint green glow. He paused a moment. _What is that, the southern lights? Wait, are there even such things as the southern lights? What does it matter? I'm dying!_

"Doc!" He heard a voice call out. "Drakken!"

_No way. No chance at all! _"Sh-sh-shego!" he called out, barely able to speak through the shivering.

A few minutes later, she helped him up the ramp into the cargo craft. It was a larger version of his hover-saucer, built as an airborne moving van for their frequent lair-relocations.

"Y-y-y-you're y-y-you ag-g-gain, h-h-how?"

"Possible came to find me." Shego sounded bitter about the whole affair. "Did you know Dementor's Transportulator was in the prison?"

"W-w-w-what? Who could be so idiotic as to leave something like that in a prison?" Drakken's anger was warming him.

"GJ, apparently. What dipwads, huh, Doc?"

"Yes, Shego, the dippiest and most wad-like of them all. Wait, how did you even find me? Do you have me chipped, or something?"

"I could just put you back out there." Shego set about launching the craft. "We off to find another lair?"

"No. Not this time." Drakken situated himself, rather weakly, in the passenger seat.

"Wha? No lair? How are we supposed to implement an 'evil scheme' with no lair?"

"There's enough left in the emergency war-chest account to restart the operation, but…" Drakken looked crestfallen. "I'm tired of it all, Shego. Being on the inside, it changes a man."

Shego couldn't believe him. "That was the shortest stretch we've ever done! It was a _week!_ In a luxury suite with robot servants!"

"I just want to take a break. How about I give you your back pay, you drop me off somewhere, and we just take a vacation. Then maybe, in a few months, we start smaller. One country, or maybe two if they're really tiny ones."

"See, that's what I always say. Why are you suddenly listening now?"

"I'm just glad you came back, is all."

"Don't read anything into it, ya mush-headed loser. And I'm going to need to have next week to myself; there's a convention of colorblind bodybuilders in Palm Beach, and I'm feeling a bit lonely."

Drakken leaned against the window, wistfully lost in his own thoughts. _She came back. She came back for—uh oh! Frozen window glass!_

"Sh'gh! M'face's st'ck to th' wind'w!"

"I swear, why did I even bother coming back…"

* * *

Many thanks for the reading, and be on the lookout for the follow-up, coming soonish. 


End file.
